


Broken Sticks and Warm Hearts

by Urt_the_Assistant



Category: Hockey RPF, Original Work
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Nhl players, Not Nhl, Original Character(s), Original work - Freeform, Pansexual Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-06 23:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8773855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Urt_the_Assistant/pseuds/Urt_the_Assistant
Summary: The life of a starter goalie falling for his backup.





	1. October 4th, 2016

**Author's Note:**

> This is an original work! I own all characters except for the NHL players mentioned in this story. If you found your way here by googling your name or the name of someone you know, I suggest you turn back now. Most places mentioned are fictional. If there's any problems I should be aware of, please let me know. Enjoy!

My therapist gave me this journal to write in. Says it’ll help to get me thinking. According to her, it’s good to get your thoughts down on paper. I don’t exactly agree. Oh well.

 

Well, I think I’m supposed to introduce myself. My name is Raymond Novak. I’m twenty years old, and 6’1”. I have brown, spiky hair and green eyes. A bit of fuzz on my chin. Pretty normal looking, I guess. 

 

I live in Utah and I work at a Joann’s. Lamest job on the face of the Earth. You’d be surprised how many angry old ladies come in on a daily basis. It’s terrifying.

 

I’m also on a Junior hockey team. It’s kind of a big deal, I guess. I mean, it’s not the NHL, or college hockey, or even a minor league or whatever. I’m the starter goalie, so yay for me.

 

I gotta say, hockey is probably the most prominent thing in my life. I’ve been playing since I was in 8th grade, which isn’t much, but since then it’s all I can think about, really. I do have other hobbies, like playing video games and reading comics. I’m even going to school to become an artist. But hockey isn’t like that stuff. It’s part of my life, and I don’t know what I’d do without it.

 

But yeah, enough of that deep shit. It's stupid.

 

I'm apparently supposed to write about my daily activities now.

 

Well, today's been surprisingly eventful.

 

Work was slow. Very slow. I hadn't had my tea with cream and sugar like I do every morning. I'm not exactly a coffee person. Stuff makes my stomach hurt.

 

Anyway, the day dragged by, as usual. Most of the customers were middle aged or elderly women.

 

Mrs. Buckingham was there like she always is. My coworkers decided that I'd be the one to deal with her today.

 

I walked to the yarn aisle, where she held about seven different rolls of brightly colored yarn in her small, fragile arms. Turning to me, she smiled. “Hello, Raymond! How has your mother been?” She spoke in a soft British accent. I sighed and flashed a small grin at her. “She's been doing better, Mrs. Buckingham. What can I help you with?”

 

She explained to me that she wanted to make scarves for the children's hockey team since her grandson played. (Frank Buckingham. Good kid. Excellent defenseman, for an eight year old.)

 

Honestly, I don't know any hockey players who'd be interested in receiving an itchy homemade scarf from an old woman that they didn't know, but I kept my mouth shut. I didn't wanna be ‘that guy’.

 

Though, I did recommend to her a darker shade of blue that would match the team's colors better. She thanked me, and I took some of the balls of yarn from her and escorted her to the checkout area.

 

As soon as she said her goodbyes, a shy teenage boy with turquoise hair came up to the register. He placed a package of highly expensive, orange drawing markers on the counter.

 

“That'll be $15.27,” He slid me a twenty dollar bill and I gave him back his change and a receipt. “Would you like a bag for that?” He just shook his head, smiled, and left. I watched him leave.

 

After work, not much went on. I got gas in my car. Went and picked up groceries. And then I went home and took a nap.

 

Aaaand when I woke up, I rushed to get ready to go to dinner with the Captain of my hockey team, Eric Green.

 

It was mildly chaotic. He decided to bring his three little girls. Triplets.

 

You see, Eric’s a single dad. His wife died of brain cancer two years after their girls were born, and he was left to raise them. He's honestly a great dad, but the girls love me and never leave me alone. Whenever they see me, they drown me with questions like “Uncle Ray! Are you gonna win the next game?” “Why’s your teeth missing?” “Look at this picture I drew!” and my personal favorite, “Why do you and daddy always smell so bad?”

 

I never really mind answering, but they're just a bit… overwhelming?

 

Anyway, at dinner, Eric and I discussed the game tomorrow. He talked to me about my strengths and weaknesses. Chirped at me for teasing the opposing team too often. Told me to “start staying in your goddamn crease, Ray! Jesus fuck!” And to quit making googly eyes at our backup goalie, William Vista. At that, my cheeks got hot and I slugged him in the arm.

 

And the night basically ended.

 

Tomorrow's a game. We'll see what's in store. This journal sucks ass, by the way.


	2. October 5th, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an original work! I own all characters except for the NHL players mentioned in this story. If you found your way here by googling your name or the name of someone you know, I suggest you turn back now. Most places mentioned are fictional. If there's any problems I should be aware of, please let me know. Enjoy!

Game day.

 

I love game days.

 

I arrived to the rink at 3:00, just like usual. About half of my teammates were already in the locker room, chatting amongst themselves in many different languages while lazily throwing on their gear.

 

You see, on the Owls Junior hockey team, we don't JUST have people from Utah. We have people from all around North America, and about half of our team is all the way from Europe. It's pretty exciting- the guys from Sweden and Slovakia and places like that seem to be the best.

 

Which is why I'm surprised that I'm the starter goalie.

 

Our backup, Will Vista, is waaayyy better than I will ever be. Or, maybe it's just me.

 

Yeah, he's Norwegian. And absolutely gorgeous.

 

If you couldn't tell, I'm infatuated with him.

 

Before you ask, yes, I'm bisexual. No one I know really cares. We just have to keep it on the down-low because a majority of the team’s fans are super uptight.

 

The thing is, I'm not the only member of the lgbt community on the team. We have a bunch of guys who are gay, bisexual, asexual, and pansexual (like Will). We even have a trans dude on our team.

 

So, yeah. Way off topic, I guess.

 

Still not sure why I'm talking to a notebook, but whatever.

 

The game started off with a bang. They dimmed the lights and introduced each of us by our positions, numbers, and names. We'd individually skate out, spotlight shining on us and the crowd going wild. 

 

After, we wished our opponents luck (the Waysiders, good team), because we were on a 12-0 winning streak and we sure as hell weren't going to lose today.

 

We had a small talk with Coach D, and then we were off. I skated to my crease, placing my water bottle on on top of the net. I skated in small circles and stretched out my legs a bit.

 

Our first line skated into position. The ref blew the whistle. Round one, fight.

 

It was pretty fast paced from there. We scored twice, thanks to our amazing right winger, Steven Quest. The last thirty seconds of the period, one of our defenseman scored a lucky, nearly impossible shot. And first intermission began.

 

We skated off the ice and headed to the locker room. We each plopped down in our individual spots on the bench- sweaty and deserving of the fifteen minute break.

 

Will was the last one in the locker room. He came in and sat right next to me. It made me incredibly nervous every time we had to be so close, but we didn't necessarily have a choice. I mean, we ARE the ONLY goalies on the team.

 

I spit out my mouth guard and removed my helmet along with my blocker and mitt, and set my stick in the corner along with everyone else's. Will kept his gear on.

 

As I was loosening my neck guard, Coach D came in with a smile. “Great job out there, guys! So far we're three to nothin’. Keep up the good work, fellas.” He turned to look at me. “Especially you, Ray. Nice work out there.”

 

I smiled, because I'm a fucking dumbass and I don't know how to respond to authoritative figures.

 

Coach D sat down with some other players and talked with them individually about their specific strategies that they needed to work on and blah blah blah.

 

I leaned forward in my spot on the bench and shut my eyes. I didn't get too much sleep last night. Unfortunately, I never get good sleep the nights before home games.

 

Just as I was about to doze off, Will said something to me and I jumped. I snapped upwards and looked at him. “Sorry, what?”

 

“I said, you do good glove-side. Need work stick-side.”

 

His voice was quiet and serious, but calm and comforting at the same time.

 

You see, Will doesn't like talking very often. He’s the only Norwegian on the team, and his English is a bit of a work in progress. I've only talked to him like. Three times?

 

“Welcome to the team! I'm Raymond, but you can call me Ray.”

 

“My stick kinda snapped in half. Can I borrow yours?”

 

“Hey, nice job dude!”

 

The last one is said often when he goaltends, but you catch my drift.

 

So, the fact that he actually talked to me first was nerve wracking.

 

I stared blankly at him like the idiot that I am before responding. “Oh, uh… You think so?”

 

He nodded and narrowed his eyes at me. “I can help. Stick-side is my specialty.”

 

God, why was he so intimidating.

 

“Yeah, uh… okay, cool. How about the stick and puck tomorrow afternoon?”

 

“What time?

 

“I think it’s at like… noon?”

 

“Deal.”

 

Just outside of the locker room, the scoreboard sounded off three loud sirens. Three minutes until second period. 

 

I quickly downed some water and put my gear back on. We all headed out to wait by the ice. Round 2, fight.

 

Second period was completely and utterly terrifying. The other team was pushing our players to our side of the rink- dominating us.

 

The Waysider’s captain gained control of the puck and came right at me from about halfway across the ice. I knelt down, ready for whatever he had planned. 

 

Captain I’m-Super-Intimidating triple deked, and shot. I quickly went down into the butterfly position, glove flying upward, but I was too late. Their first goal in the game.

 

The opponents cheered, throwing their arms up and congratulating their captain. Annoyed, I got up and skated around the net a few times before settling back into my crease.

 

The game continued without any notable pauses.

 

Until there was about three minutes left on the clock.

 

I watched one of our rookies, Casper Andersson, go for the puck. The other team’s left winger skated after him and slammed the middle of his stick into Casper’s head, and he immediately dropped to the ground. He didn’t get up. The ref blew the whistle. My teammates, along with our opponents gathered around him. The other goalie and I took a knee in respect, as did everyone else.

 

I saw the ref say something to the coach, and after a minute, the EMTs were rushing out with a stretcher.

 

As soon as Casper was off the ice, the ref announced that the opposing left winger was to receive a five minute penalty for cross checking, and unsportsmanlike conduct. I don’t understand how the hell he wasn’t kicked out of the game.

 

After that, we played twenty times more aggressive than usual.

 

Soon, the sirens blared, and second period was over. We skated off the ice quietly, fuming.

 

Once we were all back in the locker room, Coach D announced that Casper had received a terrible concussion, and explained that he’d be out for a few weeks, if not months.

 

He told us to keep our heads up, because one fallen teammate doesn’t make us any less worse than we already are, and that Casper would want us to keep going strong.

 

Slowly, I felt the grim atmosphere in the locker room lift.

 

Everyone eventually had their heads held high, determination on their faces.

 

I looked over at Will. He was smiling.

 

God damn, what a smile.

 

Third period. Let’s do this.

 

We skated onto the ice with confidence, and the crowd went wild. I got into position. Round three, fight.

 

Eventually, we managed to score four goals. I honestly don’t know how. The coach of the Waysiders switched goalies. I smirked at him from across the ice. He glared at me.

 

I blocked most shots with ease. Had a few close calls, but everything went well.

 

Until I wasn’t exactly paying attention stick-side, and caused one to slip right past me.

 

Well, shit.  
I looked over to the bench where Will was sitting. His fierce, icy blue eyes were staring at me. I couldn’t tell what he was feeling. Disappointment? Anger?

 

Scandinavians, man. They’re difficult.

 

The whistle blew and I snapped the fuck out of it.

 

Nothing else exciting happened, but we did score one last time, causing us to win at 8-2. 

 

As soon as the final sirens went off, the crowd went nuts, and my teammates skated over to me to slap me on the back or to tap our helmets together in congratulations. Will was the last to congratulate me, smiling softly.

 

“Excellent job, Novak.”

 

I smiled back at him.

 

Because I’m stupid and don’t know how to talk to gorgeous blonde-haired blue-eyed Norwegian goalies.

 

He patted me on the helmet and skated to where our team was lining up to comment our opponents on a good game. I snapped out of it, again, and skated to the front of the line.

 

After the game was a bit interesting.

 

Once my gear was off and in its rightful place, I stood up and was about to leave when Will suddenly grabbed my shoulder.

 

“Hey, Novak, hold on.”

 

Cheeks turning the faintest hue of pink, I turned around to face him.

 

“What’s up?”

 

He took a step back and straightened himself out a bit.

 

“You still want to meet up, yes?”

 

“Yeah, absolutely. Uh… after that missed shot I’d really like the stick-side help you were offering.”

 

He crossed his arms and lifted his head the slightest bit.

 

“Yes, good. Can I… get your number? Just in case?”

 

I stared at him for a moment. I felt my cheeks get hotter.

 

“Yeah, sure thing,”

 

I gave him my number and he gave me a small smile.

 

“I will text you at eleven, make sure you’re awake.”

 

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”  
The fuck was that, Ray. The fuck was that.

 

He bid me goodnight and then left.

 

I watched him leave, and Eric came up behind me and scared the hell out of me by going ‘awwww’ at the top of his lungs. I turned around and shoved him.

 

“Shut up, man.”

 

“I can’t help it dude. Your obsession with him is adorable.”

 

“I’m not obsessed!”

 

He raised his eyebrows and laughed. “You look over at him whenever you block a shot. At practice, you always make it a point to skate by him most of the time. And just. The way you look at him in general… That’s how I used to look at Zanna before we got together.”

 

I scoffed. “Right, but she was head over heels for you. Will has barely talked to me.”

 

Eric crossed his arms. “And why do you think that is?”

 

Shrug. “His English isn’t the best,”

 

He shook his head. “Sure. Look, I gotta get back to my place. It’s late, and I can’t leave the girls’ babysitter waiting,”

 

I grabbed my bag and nodded. “Yeah, alright.”

 

Eric grabbed his stuff and rested a hand on my shoulder before walking out.

 

I put on my leather jacket and left shortly after him. 

 

As I was walking out, I stopped at the window to the other rink to watch the high school kids. It looked as if they were having some free time.

 

I was right about to leave when I took one last glance at the rink, specifically at the crease on the far side of the ice. Standing by the net with his helmet off, was the turquoise haired teenager that I saw yesterday. He was chatting with another goalie with medium-length red hair. They were standing close, and the turquoise-haired goalie was blushing.

 

I thought of Will and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and constructive criticism is appreciated!


	3. October 6th, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an original work! I own all characters except for the NHL players mentioned in this story. If you found your way here by googling your name or the name of someone you know, I suggest you turn back now. Most places mentioned are fictional. If there's any problems I should be aware of, please let me know. Enjoy!

Today’s honestly been amazing. Utterly, undoubtedly, amazing.

 

Let’s cut right to things.

 

So, I promised Will I’d go to stick and puck with him. I woke up around ten and ate a small breakfast. Eleven o’clock came around, and he texted me.

 

"You awake? Is almost time to meet"

 

I freaked out. Not gonna lie.

 

"Hahah yup! Gonna leave in 30 min or so."

 

I took a deep breath. Today was going to be… interesting.

 

Got my stuff together and blah blah blah fixed my hair and left.

 

Blah blah blah.

 

I got to the ice rink and it was surprisingly empty. Only a few people were on the ice for stick and puck. I went and sat down on a bench and began to gear up. 

 

It takes like, five million years to put on all that damn equipment. I swear to god. By the time I had everything on, I was sweating. Flexing my toes in my skates, I headed onto the ice.

 

I sat in the corner and began to do some stretches. I swear, the only guys on the face of the Earth who can do the splits (besides dancers) are goalies. 

 

Time passed and Will finally showed up. He skated over to where I was practicing butterflying and knelt down to begin stretching out his thighs.

 

Naturally, I couldn’t help but stare.

 

Because god damn, even with goalie shorts on, he’s got a pretty nice ass.

 

I got up and snatched up a random puck with my stick. I flicked it around a bit, and skated towards the goal. Will must’ve picked up on what I was doing, because he skated over to the goal and got into position. I moved my right hand to the end of my stick, and gripped the base of it with my left hand. I quickly skated up to the goal, and shot. Will caught the puck in his mitt. He tossed it onto the ice and skated over to me.

 

“Nice shot,” He smiled at me.

I smiled back. “Not nice enough, apparently.”

 

“No. Is why you’re goalie, not skater.”

 

“Hm, fair enough.”

 

He skated to the empty net and I followed.

 

He knelt down into position and ran me through some easier ways of defending stick-side. We eventually switched spots and I tried mimicking what he showed me.  
He snatched a puck with his stick and shot it at me. I blocked it like he showed me.

 

“Good. Now, try the other way.”

 

Will shot, and I blocked.

 

“Now, the other way.”

 

Will shot, it hit the net.

 

“Ah, I see what is wrong. You are holding stick too far in. Can’t be quick enough. Try again.”

 

I got down into the butterfly position and he skated behind me, prodding my shoulders and arms to where they need to be. And honestly? His adjustments made it feel a lot less awkward.

 

Will shot, and I blocked.

 

“See? Is much easier when you do it right.”

 

I got up and skated alongside him.

 

“Yeah, I’ll admit it.”

 

After that, we just screwed around. Tossed the puck to each other, practiced catching and blocking, and then we decided to just play around.

 

Will would tap me on the shoulder with his stick, and I’d chase after him until I caught him. Then I’d tap him on the helmet, and he’d come chasing after me.

 

One time when Will was chasing after me, he caught up but didn’t stop in time, and we collided into one another, falling onto the ice.

 

With my luck, he managed to fall right on top of me. My face grew bright red.

 

“Sorry. You okay Novak?”

 

He made no effort to get off of me.

 

“Uh, yeah, I’m alright. Are you alright?”

 

“Yes, no worries.”

 

He still hadn’t made an effort to get up, and I didn’t exactly want him to. I mean come on, the guy of my dreams is on top of me. What luck.

 

I cleared my throat anyway, and he moved to get up.

 

“Right, uh… sorry.”

 

“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.”

 

He struggled with getting up- our goalie pads were practically tangled together, if that was even possible.

 

When Will managed to roll off of me, he held out his blocker to help me up.

 

Everyone began to skate off the ice, and the door to the zamboni was beginning to open.

 

On the bench, we chatted while taking off our pads.

 

“You improved. Doing much better- I see why you are starter and I’m not.”

 

I scoffed at him. “Thanks Will, but you’re way better of a goalie than I ever will be. You’ve been playing for longer, plus you… how do I put it. You fixed my mistakes?”

 

He smiled at me. “Everyone has room for improvement. Just because I play longer and understand game better doesn’t make you bad player compared to me.”

 

I sighed. And smiled. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right.”

 

He slugged my shoulder. “Plus, you have better beard than me.”

 

I pushed him and laughed. “It’s not a beard! It’s a goatee, thank you very much.”

 

As we were walking out, I felt someone tap my shoulder. I turned around, and it was the red-haired goalie. The one the turquoise-haired kid had been flirting with.

 

He backed up a step.

 

“Hey, uh… sorry to bother you, it’s just… You’re Raymond Novak, right?”

 

I looked at Will, who stood firmly behind me, and back at the kid with a smile.

 

“Yeah, that’s me.”

 

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank god. Can you sign this for me?”

 

He held out a blue goalie jersey and a silver fabric marker. The front of the jersey had our high school team’s logo on it, and on the back was the name “Morrison” in white with the matching number 30 below it.

 

I stared and leaned my stick against the wall, taking the jersey and marker with a smile. “Sure thing, kid. What’s your name?”

 

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the ground. “Brent. Brent Phillips. That jersey belongs to… it belongs to my boyfriend. Andrew Morrison.”

 

Things began to click into place. “Does he have turquoise hair?”

 

“How’d you guess?”

 

I laughed softly under my breath and began signing the jersey. “Nothing, just. Seen him around.”

 

I looked back at Will, who had the faintest hints of a smile on his face, and back at Brent. “You two make a cute couple,”

 

I handed him the jersey and his face flushed. “Thanks. Andrew’s a big fan, by the way. Of both of you.” He looked at Will and had him sign the jersey too.

 

After taking a picture with Brent, Will and I walked into the parking lot together. “Where are you parked?”

 

“I walk here,”

 

“You walked here… with your goalie gear?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

This dude, I swear to god. We’ve barely talked and he’s already going to be the death of me.  
Without thinking, I asked him to dinner.

 

That’s right. I asked Will to DINNER.

 

Was I mad at myself? Oh hell yeah.

 

Did I regret all of my life decisions? Absolutely.

 

Did Will reject me?

 

Actually, he didn’t. He smiled at me with his perfect grin and his shining icy blue eyes.

 

It went pretty well, in my opinion. Lots of small talk. That kind of stuff. Until Eric decided to call me.

 

“Sorry, it’s Eric. I should probably take this,”

 

Will nodded and I answered the phone.

 

“O’ Captain my captain, didn’t expect you to call on this mighty fine evening.”

 

“Heyyy my favorite goaltender, what’s going down?”

 

“Oh, you know, just at Le Faisan with a friend.”

 

“Dude, hold your shit. You’re at Le Faisan. With a friend? You don’t take friends to Le Faisan, Ray. You take dates. So, who’s the lucky guy or gal?”  
I looked at Will, who was half-listening to the conversation. It’s not hard to hear, considering Eric’s loud mouth.

 

“Well, um. I’m here with Will, actually. And I swear to Marian Hossa that it’s not a date.” I whispered that last part quietly.

 

“Will? As in. William Vista, our backup goalie from Norway? As in, the Will that you’re totally in love with?”

 

I hissed into the phone and turned down the call volume. “Dude, shut up.”

 

Eric lowered his voice and whispered. “Right, right. You don’t want the love of your life to know about your obvious crush on him.”

 

“I’d prefer him not to know, yeah.”

 

The rest of the conversation consisted of Eric chirping at me and me telling him to shut up and Will staring at me across the table like I was crazy.

 

When he finally hung up, I slammed my phone on the table and breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“What Captain say?”

 

“Nothing important. Just reminded me that I have to babysit his daughters next week.”

 

He looked at me suspiciously. “I see.”

 

God damn it.

 

Anyway anyway anyway. Enough with the boring shit.

 

Somehow, our sexualities were brought up during our conversations.

 

“So Novak, what age were you when you discovered that you are bisexual?”

 

I rubbed my goatee. “Hm.. I gotta say that I was in Junior High School. Thought it was a phase that I was gonna get over after a while. Boy was I wrong.”

 

He laughed. “Ah, I know how that feels. I felt the same when I discovered that I am… what is the English word… Pansexual. I was in high school, thought it was phase as well.”

 

I smiled at him. “Are they accepting of that stuff in Norway?”

 

“Oh, yes. Very accepting. Gay marriage has been legal and accepted for long time. Transgender people also get fair treatment and rights to transition.”

 

“Dude, holy shit! That’s fucking boss! Norway sounds like heaven compared to America.”

 

He grinned at me. “No offense, but yes. Is very nice and beautiful there. Not crowded like here. Maybe I take you one day.”

 

Okay, so that happened. I was definitely blushing. Now, how the fuck do you respond to the super hot guy of your dreams who wants to take you to his home country.

 

“That would be pretty sick. I’ve never been out of the country.”

 

Will gave a small smile and looked down. He almost looked shy.

 

“Well, um. I was wondering… if you would-”

 

The waitress came up and deposited our checks. Talk about wrong timing.

 

Fast forward to when he finished asking me the damn question, that I was (in fact) really nervous to hear.

 

You know what he asked me?

 

He asked me on a date. A DATE.

 

IN YOUR FACE.

 

Well, Eric was right.

 

And, of course I said yes. I gave Will a ride home. He gave me a warm smile before he hopped out of my car.

 

I got home, and here I am now. Writing in this damn journal diary thing, pouring my heart out to nothing and no one. I gotta say, it kinda helps. Lets out all of my ‘bottled up feelings’, as my therapist would say. Never thought I’d be the writing type.

 

...I’m gonna paint something for will one day. Something as beautiful as his smile. Something as gorgeous and blue as his eyes. Something to show him how I feel when I look at him.

 

Wait, what the fuck am I thinking. He barely asked me on a date. 

 

God damn, I hate having feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Constructive criticism and comments are greatly appreciated!


	4. October 7th, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Already over 100 hits! Thank you all so much for reading!
> 
> This is an original work! I own all characters except for the NHL players mentioned in this story. If you found your way here by googling your name or the name of someone you know, I suggest you turn back now. Most places mentioned are fictional. If there's any problems I should be aware of, please let me know. Enjoy!

Today’s been boring as hell.

I went to work, had to deal with Mrs. Buckingham again. Some middle-aged ‘I want to speak with your manager’ type of lady threw a big roll of fabric at my face after I told her that I, in fact, am the head manager. That was fun.

I went home and worked on one of my paintings. This one’s a medium sized oil painting of a peacock. The peacock’s turned at an angle, showing off his bright, beautiful feathers. Near the tips of the tail feathers, I added a little bit of bright green glitter for the extra flare. All that I had left to paint was the sapphire blue body and wings. 

I was about halfway through finishing the base coat on the body when I got a text. I set my paint pallet and brushes down and saw that the text was from Will. It simply read,

"Hey Novak"

I smiled to myself and responded, a little overenthusiastically.

"Hey Will! What’s up?"

I set my phone down and wiped my hands on my shorts. Will actually texted me. 

I took the opportunity to run to the kitchen and get clean water to clean off my brushes. I came back and pulled up spotify on my laptop because god damn, I was happy that Will texted me, even if it was one little text. I started up my Black Sabbath playlist and settled onto my chair.

My phone went off again.

"Can you still go tomorrow?"

"Of course! Wouldn’t miss it for the world."

Picked up my brush and pallet, began painting again. Thank god oil paints take forever to dry.

He responded about five minutes later.

"Good. Are you excited?"

I took a minute to think of a response. Of course I was excited! I just didn’t want to seem… overbearing? He’d probably think it’s weird. I don’t know how dating rituals are in Norway. 

"Definitely. :)"

Good enough.

Once I was finished applying the deep blue base to the peacock’s stomach, I began adding the shiny details of the feathers. Light strokes with light blue and white. Miniscule details.

I was tapping my foot to one of my favorite Black Sabbath songs, War Pigs, when he texted again.

"So what are you doing?"

"Painting a picture."

I sat back and took a sip of my tea with milk and sugar and glanced at the muted TV in the corner of the room. The Bruins were playing a home game against the Penguins. Two of my favorite teams with two of my favorite goalies. The score was 3-3, but it was only second period. I watched as Patrice Bergeron shot at Marc-Andre Fleury, who snatched the puck out of the air with ease. God I wish I could play like those guys.

One day, NHL. One day.

My phone vibrated in my lap, making me jump.

"Youre an artist?"

My face lit up slightly as I responded.

"Yeah, actually. I’ve been going to Weber State to get a degree in art for a while now."

I took another sip of my tea as I watched Evgeni Malkin slip the puck past Tuukka Rask during a scuffle. I smirked and said to myself, “Nice one, Geno. Wonder what Sid thinks,”  
And like clockwork, Sidney Crosby skated to Evgeni and they wrapped their arms around each other.

You know how they say that one in ten people are gay? Well, I’ve always wondered how that works with NHL stars. You always see them with girlfriends and wives, but what about the players who go to events alone or with celebrities? I’ve always been curious.

I’m sorry, but guys like Jonathan Toews and Patrick Kane seem like they’d be they’d be a part of the gay community.

Just sayin’.

Will and I chatted about art for a while, and I managed to finish the entire body of the peacock and started on the wing.

It hit about ten thirty at night when Will told me he was going to sleep. I wished him goodnight.

You know, he’s actually really fun to talk to. And I’ve been learning more and more about him.

It turns out that he wants to go to school to be a musician. Apparently he’s amazing at the saxophone which is something that I couldn’t really picture him doing. 

After a while, I finished the painting. I stood up and took a step back, marveling at my work.

Now, what the hell would I do with it? I’ll figure it out eventually.

I sat back down and unmuted the TV. It was the last three minutes of third period, and the Bruins and Penguins were tied 5-5. Tuukka looked furious as hell.

I finished up the rest of my tea as I watched the game. At thirty seconds on the clock, Zdeno Chara made an impossible shot from the blueline, and it managed to zip right past Fleury and into the net. The crowd cheered, and the Bruins celebrated. Tuukka looked relieved.

I may or may not have crushes on 90% of the goalies in the NHL.

Not my fault that goalies just happen to be the most attractive hockey players.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and constructive criticism is appreciated!


	5. October 8th, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an original work! I own all characters except for the NHL players mentioned in this story. If you found your way here by googling your name or the name of someone you know, I suggest you turn back now. Most places mentioned are fictional. If there's any problems I should be aware of, please let me know. Enjoy!

Today’s the day.

 

My first date with Will.

 

Will, who has barely talked to me but is already showing an interest.

 

Will, with his beautiful blonde hair that’s short on the sides but long and beautiful on top.

 

Will, with his cold, icy blue eyes that somehow manage to be full of warmth.

 

Will, with his gorgeous smile that shines brighter than the sun.

 

William Vista, who I’m totally in love with.  
I plan on picking him up at four thirty. We’re going down to Salt Lake City to watch Utah’s minor league hockey team, the Pandas, play against some no-name team all the way from Florida. But before that, we’re going to dinner, and then we’ll just walk around the crowded, yet beautiful streets of Salt Lake until it’s time for the game.

 

I’m ECSTATIC. I don’t think I’ve ever been this pumped for a date.

 

It’s currently about two in the afternoon, and I seriously need time to go faster right about now, so, I’m gonna play video games for a bit. Be back later.

 

Again, why the fuck am I talking to a journal?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Okay.

 

Okay.

 

Best. Day. Ever.

 

Let’s start at the beginning.

 

So, I picked up Will at four thirty, just like planned. He was wearing a jersey for the Pandas’ starter goalie, McMillan, and I was wearing a jersey for the backup goalie, Gallagher. Pretty fucking ironic, if you ask me.   
If you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a thing for backup goalies.

 

Mostly Scott Darling, but whatever. His beard is fucking beautiful.

 

Anyway, the drive there was surprisingly not as awkward as I anticipated. We talked a little bit, mostly about Utah. I learned that Will’s favorite part of Utah is the mountains. He said that they reminded him of home. He explained to me that before he was in Utah, he was in Oklahoma, where it’s almost completely flat. Apparently, most of Norway is surrounded by mountains, so Utah feels more… comfortable? I don’t know, I just liked hearing him get all passionate about his home country.

 

Then, we talked about music. Will told me that old American jazz and big band music is his favorite. That explained a lot, considering the fact that he plays the tenor saxophone and wants to become a big-shot musician or a music teacher. Yes, he told me all that.

 

So, I reached into the glove department, and popped one of my Frank Sinatra cd’s into my car’s disk player. Will’s beautiful eyes immediately lit up and he flashed a beautiful grin.

 

Sinatra’s beautiful voice hummed out the first verse of Blue Moon, and I glanced at Will. He was still smiling that gorgeous smile.

 

I looked back at the road and my face grew warm. I smiled the slightest bit.

 

When we finally arrived to Salt Lake City, I took Will to one of my favorite restaurants. It’s a hole-in-the-wall Greek restaurant, literally called “Hole-In-The-Wall”.

 

Our waitress was kind, and claimed that we weren’t the first group to come in wearing jerseys for the Pandas game.

 

The food was good as usual, and Will seemed to like it. I asked him if he’d ever been to Greece. He told me that he hasn’t, but he’d like to one day. I fucked up and responded with “Same.” 

 

Smooth, Ray. Smooth.

 

After we were finished with our food, our waitress brought us a cup of rice pudding with whipped cream on top. The whipped cream was covered in cinnamon and sugar. Will looked confused, but the waitress claimed it was on the house.

 

And she called us a cute couple.

 

My eyebrows shot up.

 

“What? We’re not-”

 

Will interrupted.  
“Thank you.”

 

He smiled over at me.

 

I was fucking internally SCREAMING MY HEAD OFF.

 

So, that happened, and now Will is hooked on rice pudding.

 

After that, we walked around Salt Lake City, going into cool random stores. We ended up going into a Fanzz store to check out hockey merchandise, because apparently even in Norway, the NHL is kinda big.

 

Even though all the teams are in Canada and the U.S.

 

Weird.

 

But, we tried to guess each other's favorite teams.

 

I got it on the second try. Boston Bruins.

 

He got it on the fourth. Chicago Blackhawks.

 

I laughed. “Alright, Will. If you guess my NHL goalie crush in three tries, I’ll buy you that Bruins hat. If you don’t, you have to buy me that Blackhawks hat.”

 

He smirked. “I like challenges. Hm… Marc-Andre Fleury?”

 

“Strike one.”  
“Um... Antti Raanta?”

 

“Strike two.”

 

“Well, your favorite team is Blackhawks, so… Scott Darling?”

 

“Bingo! I guess I owe you that hat…”

 

He crossed his arms and stared at me. 

 

“Well, you obviously have some sort of liking for backup goalies. So, you guess MY goalie crush, and you don’t have to buy it.”

 

“Alright, sure. Let’s see… Henrik Lunqvist?”

 

“Wrong.”

 

“Bruins, right… Tuukka Rask?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Dude, he was my first hockey crush! I think it’s got something to do his eyes. All icy and blue…”

 

Will laughed. “Yes! It’s because he’s Finnish. Most Scandinavians have blue eyes. Have you not noticed?”

 

I stared at him and smiled. “I have noticed, actually. Though, Norwegians seem to have the most beautiful eyes of them all.”

 

He gave me a warm smile in return.

 

Yeah, nothing else really happened. But, I did mentally punch myself after saying that.

 

Fast forward to the Pandas game.

 

It was honestly pretty intense. We got seats on the front row right behind the net.

 

When the team skated out, the crowd went wild. I saw my favorite goalie, Gallagher, and cheered him on, even though he was only playing backup tonight.   
The starter goalie, McMillan, settled in his crease and began scuffing up the ice. I looked over at Will, who had stars in his eyes.

 

Breathtaking.

 

The game was insane. The Florida team tried, they really did, but they could barely get past the defenseman. During the last minute of the game, the score was 5-0, but the Pandas were on a penalty kill.

 

One of the assistant captains on the Florida team made it past our defenseman with the puck. Thirty seconds left on the clock.

 

He deked.

 

Shot.

 

The crowd held their breath.   
McMillan snatched it out of the air like it was nothing.

 

Honestly, I've never seen a crowd go so wild over a blocked shot. Made me a little jealous.

 

Will had his arms in the air, yelling with excitement. Fucking adorable.

 

Once the crowd settled down, he looked up at me, grinning. I smiled back down at him.

 

The game ended, sirens blaring. The entire team skated onto the ice to celebrate.

 

As we walked out of the stadium, Will took my hand into his and intertwined our fingers.

 

Do you have any idea how that felt?

 

Best fucking feeling.

 

During the drive home, we chatted about the game. Will talked about how McMillan has been one of his biggest inspirations since he’s moved to Utah. We talked about his saves and the fact that he got a shutout.

 

I learned that Will has only ever had one shutout during his career in the junior leagues. I’ve had, what. Eight? I’m not gonna lie, I felt bad.

 

Yeah, I’m gonna talk with Coach D about having Will be the starter at our next game. It’s just the Las Vegas Suns. He’d be fine.

 

Anyway, once we got to Will’s house, he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

 

My face grew as hot as the fucking sun.

 

He grinned at me affectionately. “That was fun. Let’s do it again sometime.”

 

I smiled back. “Of course. I’ll text you.”

 

“Goodnight, Ray.”

 

He kissed me on the cheek again.

 

“Goodnight Will.”

 

Hesitantly, I kissed him on the cheek in return.  
He smiled and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and constructive criticism are much appreciated!


	6. October 9th, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an original work! I own all characters except for the NHL players mentioned in this story. If you found your way here by googling your name or the name of someone you know, I suggest you turn back now. Most places mentioned are fictional. If there's any problems I should be aware of, please let me know. Enjoy!

I seriously can’t get over last night.

Like, just. Wow.

Will kissed me on the cheek. And held my hand. And said ‘thank you’ when we were called a cute couple.

He fuckin’ likes me back. You know how good that feels?

Pretty damn good. All of my past relationships have gone down the fucking drain.

So, I’m reeeaaally hoping that if Will and I actually develop into something, it’ll last a long time, if not a lifetime.

I got home last night and couldn’t sleep, which wasn’t a good thing, considering I had classes this morning. But I couldn’t help replaying everything in my head over and over and over again.

I texted Eric about it.

"DUUDE I JUST WENT ON THE BEST DATE EVER"

"DUUUUDE OMG WHO WITH?????"

"Guess."

"It was Will, wasn’t it"

"YES!!!!"

"I FUCKIGN KNEW IT MAN I TOLD U"

"IKR DUDE BUT HE KISSED ME ON THE CHEEK AND WE HELD HANDS AND SHIT"

And then Eric called me.

“Dude. You and William motherfucking Novak held hands? Did he like… punch you in the face afterwards?”

I sighed. “Slow down, man. He actually initiated it…”

Eric stayed silent for a second, which was a long fucking time for someone like Eric. “Dude. Holy… Holy shit!”

I grinned. “I know right!”

“Will’s always scared the hell out of me. I’ve never really seen him smile, and I can barely get him to talk to me or the assistant captains. The fact that he actually did that shit with you and asked you on a date… That’s pretty big, dude.”

My smile softened and I shifted my phone from one hand to the other. “Yeah man. I’m honestly just as shocked as you are…”

I could practically hear Eric smiling through the phone.

“Okay, so. What all did you guys do?”

I told him about the Pandas game and the restaurant. Then I told him about us trying to guess each other’s goalie crushes and he burst into laughter.

“Dude. You have a crush on Scott Darling?”

“Come on, have you seen his beard? It’s fucking beautiful!”

“Whatever. And Vista likes Tuukka Rask? Not surprising, must be a Scandinavian thing.”

“For real! Like, what the hell.”

“God, Ray, you sound like a fucking teenage girl.”

I laughed. “I can’t help it, man! I’m happy!”

Eric’s voice softened. “Well hey, I gotta go to sleep. My girls have school tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks for listening to me ramble about tonight. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“For sure. Night dude.”

“Night.”

I set my phone on my nightstand and stared at my television. It was showing the highlights from all the games tonight, and at the time, it was replaying Tyler Seguin’s boss slapshot, and Corey Crawford catching it like it’s the easiest thing ever.

Fucking. Hell.

What a good day.

I SHOULD be working on homework, but whatever. I can do it later.

I just can’t stop thinking about everything.

Oh. Oh holy shit.

Will just texted me.

"Have fun last night?"

Uh, hell fucking yeah.

"Of course! I had a blast! Thanks, for. You know, asking me on a date."

Why the hell am I so awkward.

"Yea, thanks for accepting"

Okay, so maybe he was feeling awkward too. No big deal.

Reluctantly, I texted him back.

"So. What’s up?"

And now we wait. Currently, I’m watching one of my favorite hockey movies, Goon. This movie is the fucking Deadpool of hockey.

And, he responded.

"Waiting for an audition at Weber State"

Audition. Okay.

"Audition? What for?"

He replied almost immediately.

"Big audition for jazz band"

"Dude, that’s awesome! Good luck with that!"

Alright, I’ll update this shitty journal later.

****************

So, stuff happened. Will was waiting for his jazz band audition, right? He told me he was texting me because I calmed him down.

His exact words, “Talking to you makes me feel calm. Even before I talk to you, there is something about you that is. I don’t know English word. In Norwegian, avslappende.”

I had to use google translate. It translates to ‘relaxing’ or ‘restful’. 

But still, holy shit.

I’m falling for him hardcore.

I’ve been in a situation like this maybe twice.

Once, when I was in Junior High. Kolton Gardner. He was the captain of my hockey team at the time, and he was gorgeous. Tall, with deep black hair and gorgeous green eyes. He wore glasses and was the sweetest boy I’d met at the time.

Well, he was actually the first dude I’d ever had a crush on.

So, things took me by surprise, and I slowly fell for him. He’d talk to me during practice, and I remember how red-faced I’d get, stuttering in embarrassment. After our games, he’d tap helmets with me, looking me in the eyes and complementing how I played. Even though he was supposed to do that to everyone on our team, it still made me feel… special?

Kolton ended up noticing my nervousness around him and pulled me aside to talk about it.

In my pubescent glory, I told him how I was feeling about him.

That ended up working out well- we dated for a year and a half, until him and his family moved to Maine. Literally, all the way across the fucking country.

Oh well.

In high school, I fell for a beautiful girl. Her name was Carrie Valor. She was absolutely gorgeous.

Carrie was short. Like, a bit shorter than average, but it was cute. She had dark hazel eyes, and this crazy, unruly, curly hair that was dyed a soft shade of lavender.

She was in all of my art classes, and she wanted to be an artist too. She was always jealous of how well I could paint with oils, but I was always jealous of her skill with watercolors.

So, one day, I asked Carrie if she’d like to hang out and I’d teach her how to use oils if she’d teach me watercolors.

And, it was a date.

Yeah, we ended up kissing and shit. And we made some cool art, but yeah.

Nothing ever really developed from there. We just kinda stayed friends, even though I was constantly pining over her.

So, yeah. Bit of a backstory, I guess.

Well, tomorrow’s another game day.

Will’s the starter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and constructive criticism are much appreciated!


	7. October 10th, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an original work! I own all characters except for the NHL players mentioned in this story. If you found your way here by googling your name or the name of someone you know, I suggest you turn back now. Most places mentioned are fictional. If there's any problems I should be aware of, please let me know. Enjoy!

Yet again, today’s game day.

I’m really excited to watch Will play; he hasn’t started for a while.

I’m just gonna go ahead and fast forward to when I arrived at the rink. Everyone had their heads held high, confident, and ready to pound Las Vegas’s asses into the ice.

As we were getting ready, Will and I chatted about anything and everything. Everyone kept looking at us, confused. 

It was honestly fucking hilarious.

Anyway, we got onto the ice and the crowd was going wild. When it was announced that Will was starting, though, there was a mixed reaction from everyone. Kinda pissed me off.

We did our usual warmups on the ice. I went to do my own thing, but Will stayed close. It felt oddly... comforting. After about fifteen minutes, the sirens blared, announcing that it was almost time for the puck drop, and we began to skate off the ice.

I skated alongside Will and tapped him on the shoulder with my glove.

“Hey, good luck. You’re gonna do great.”

He turned and smiled at me through his mask.

“Thanks, Ray. I’m excited.”

My face grew slightly warm as I grinned back at him.

Eventually, the national anthem was sung, and the game against the Las Vegas Suns began.

Will looked gorgeous out there.

Thirty seconds in, Eric scored.

Thirty. Seconds.

This was already way too easy.

The puck rarely got to our side of the rink, but whenever it did, Will acted like a fucking brick wall. Indestructible, not letting anything get past him.

Our forwards were on fire.

First period ended with the score 3-0.

In the locker room, everyone was ecstatic.

Coach D didn’t have anything negative to say. He complimented everyone - mostly Will.

We got back on the ice, and the Suns looked furious. Their coach was red in the face, and there was this vein in his forehead that looked like it was about to burst at any given moment.

It’s only second period dude, calm the fuck down.

Anyway, the Sun’s forwards seemed to get their shit together, because they actually dominated us practically all of second period. So, it was our defensemens’ turn to be fucking amazing.

And, they were. There were some close calls, but our defensemen were in the right places at the right times, and everything turned out fine.

And of course, Will was fucking beautiful at goaltending, like he usually is.

So, we ended second period with a score of 4-0.

In the locker room, everyone was complimenting Will, and talking about him getting a shutout. He remained mostly quiet, but he was still polite.

When no one was talking to him, I took one of his hands into mine and intertwined our fingers. He looked up at me and grinned.

I smiled sweetly at him, not saying anything. I felt like I didn’t really have to.

Anyway, yeah, enough with the fluffy shit.

Third period was… interesting.

That’s when things were mostly evened out, and both sides played pretty well.

Except, there was this one dude on the Sun’s, #2, who kept going right in front of Will, trying to distract him. He’d skate really close to the crease, and face away from Will, waiting for his teammates to pass to him. Eventually, Will began to push at him with his glove, but the dude wouldn’t budge. Finally, I saw Will mouth something to him, but I wasn’t sure what he said.

And then, he turned around and began shoving at Will.

No fucking way. No FUCKING WAY.

He would NOT get away with that.

And, he didn’t. I watched our current defensemen (Italian twins. They're weird) skate right at the dude and just pound him. He'd tried to fight back, but they’d tackled him into the ice, and were throwing punch after punch, with the ref and linesmen trying to pry them off of him.

Once the defensemen were under control, the dude got up, and holy SHIT they fucked him up.

He had a bloody nose, and bruises were already beginning to form on his face. But what the hell, he had it coming.

Will smiled as one of the linesman escorted the dude to the penalty box. Unfortunately, one of the defenseman was also put in the box, and the other was ejected from the game. As he skated off the ice, he fist bumped Will.

The next play started, and it was a four on four.

Once the clock hit the three minute mark, we were 7-0.

Will was gonna get a shutout.

And you know what?  
That clock ticked down, and he did. William Vista, number 31, left-handed Norwegian goaltender, got a shutout.

The crowd went absolutely wild. The sirens on the scoreboard blared, and our entire team booked it onto the ice in excitement. Everyone crowded around Will, hugging him to death, and drowning him with praise. Once everyone pulled away, I skated up to him and threw my arms around him with slight difficulty, because goalie pads are fucking awkward.

But, he hugged back, so it’s all good.

He got first star of the night. I’m so damn proud.

In the locker room, everyone was practically screaming in excitement as we got changed. Coach D gave Will the game puck, for his first shutout as a part of the Owls.

I was about to leave when Will grabbed my shoulder. 

“Hey Ray, wait for me?”

I nodded. “Sure thing.”

He finished putting his gear away, and we walked out together.

Will slipped his hand into mine. “That was my second shutout.”

“Yeah. You did amazing.”

“Think so?”

“Are you kidding me? Of course you did. Your goaltending is just… beautiful. I’m not surprised that you got a shutout.”

He looked down, face slightly red, smiling. 

“Thank you Ray.”

As we walked outside the building, I saw Brent and Andrew, partially hidden in a corner on the front of the building.

And, they were kissing. Brent had Andrew pushed against the wall, while Andrew had his arms wrapped around him.

It was the most adorable fucking thing on the face of the Earth. “Hey, look,” I whispered to Will, nodding my head in the direction of the teens.

He glanced over and his eyes widened, but quickly grew soft as his smile grew.

And you know what happened?

Will turned to face me. He let go of my hand and wrapped his arms around my neck, and gently pressed his lips against mine. 

I was absolutely stunned. I closed my eyes and leaned into the kiss. I can’t even describe how I felt, but just know that I was happy as all hell.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him closer to me. 

He eventually pulled away, smiling softly, breathing heavily.

His eyes were indescribably beautiful, gazing into my own, piercing right through my soul.

I smiled and pulled him in for another kiss that had just as much emotion as the first.

I didn’t want to pull away, but we had to.

Will intertwined our fingers as I walked him to his car.

He kissed me one last time, said “Goodnight, Ray,” and left.

I simply stood there, grinning like an idiot, in the dead of that perfect, October night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and constructive criticism are much appreciated. Come find me on my tumblr, gay-4-goalies, for more hockey stuff!


	8. October 11th, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an original work! I own all characters except for the NHL players mentioned in this story. If you found your way here by googling your name or the name of someone you know, I suggest you turn back now. Most places mentioned are fictional. If there's any problems I should be aware of, please let me know. Enjoy!

God, yesterday was perfect.

A shutout.  
Kissing Will.

Jesus fuck. I’ll never forget it.

We had practice this morning. It went pretty smooth, like usual.

Coach had us do more cheesy teambuilding shit. Basically, we had to partner up with someone with a different position, and we’d use our sticks to take turns dragging each other back and forth across the ice, racing. 

I was stuck with one of our right wings, Steven Quest. He’s a pretty good kid. Steven’s one of the youngest players on our team, being only 17 years old.

And he’s Irish, so half the time, I didn’t have a clue what the hell he was saying because he spoke at a million miles an hour, and his ultra-thick accent didn’t help.

But after practice, in the locker room, he came up to me.

“Oi, can I ask you something?”

I could actually understand him for once, holy shit.

“Yeah man, what’s up? Did you finally hit puberty?”

Steven laughed and punched me in the chest. Good thing I still had my chest guard on; that kid’s strong as fuck.  
“Nah, nothing like that. It’s about you and Will.”

I narrowed my eyebrows.

“Yeah? What about us?”

“You guys have a thing, don’t you?”

I began taking off my chest protector, glad that Will was in the showers instead of the on the bench next to me.

“What kind of thing are you talking about?”

Steven ran a hand through his long black hair and crossed his arms. 

“Don’t make me spell it out for you. You know what I mean.”

I removed my neck guard.

“What makes you think that we might have a thing?”

“You were staring at him for half the practice, and he stared at you for the other half. And don’t think I didn’t notice you two holding hands in the locker room.”

Well, shit.

I rubbed at my goatee.

“Well, honestly, I don’t know. I mean, we went on a date and shit, and we text and stuff, and-”

“I saw you guys kiss in the parking lot.”

…….Oh.

I scratched at my sideburns. Something I never mentioned was that I mess with my facial hair a lot when I’m nervous.

“Yeah, well… even then, he’s never really said if he even likes me or anything… Everything that’s gone on between us has just… happened. Since he asked me on a date, I’ve just kinda assumed that he likes me, you know? I don’t know if he’d like… wanna be my boyfriend, or some shit.”

Steven raised his eyebrows and nodded.

“I gotcha, I gotcha. Well, everything between you is kinda obvious, so..”

“Right, right…”

He put his hands up. “But hey, it’s cool. I was just curious, you know? You’d be good for eachother. Kinda sounds like something out of a romance novel, huh?”

I laughed at him. “Yeah, sure.”

He waved his hands dramatically. “The starter and his backup. So romantic.”

I kicked at him with my skates. “Whatever, man. Go make out with your boyfriend or some shit. He looks like he’s about to explode.”

I gestured to his super possessive boyfriend, Brian Botte, who was glaring daggers at me from across the room.

Steven smiled and waved me off, before walking across the room and immediately throwing himself at Brian, straddling his hips. All the guys chirped at them playfully, saying things like “Get a room!” in many different variations and languages.

I shook my head and started undoing my leg pads.

Will and I held hands on our way out of practice, and a lot of guys on the team noticed, but we didn’t really care. A few of them whistled as we walked out, others patted us on our shoulders or winked at us.

I glanced at Will, and he was smiling softly.

I squeezed his hand a bit. “Hey, are you busy today?”

He looked up at me. “No, why?”

“Wanna come over?”

He grinned. “That would be nice.”

Fast forward to when we got to my place.

We walked inside, and I immediately saw him eyeing the hockey posters around my living room.

“I’m not surprised. Do you have a crush on every goalie you see?”

“Not every goalie! I hate Steve Mason. And Martin Jones. I mean, they’re hot, but I still hate them.”

“That is two goalies, Ray. Two.”

He held up two fingers for emphasis.

“Yeah, yeah. But there’s only one goalie that I REALLY have a crush on.”

Haha FUCK.

We were standing in the middle of my living room at the time. Will moved to stand directly in front of me, staring into my eyes. He crossed his arms. “And who would that be?”

He was smirking at me, and he had this look in his eyes that was intense and full of… passion? It looked like passion.

It took me a minute to realize what was happening, and I gave him a lopsided grin. “Well, he’s kinda tall like me. He’s Scandinavian. And he’s got these eyes… Fuck, they’re beautiful. I can’t get over his eyes.”

Will ran his hand down my arm before taking my hand into his.

“And the way he plays… fuck, it’s gorgeous. I love watching him play. And his thighs- jesus.”

I realized that I may have crossed the line right there.

But, he just smiled. “What about his personality?”

Thank Wayne Gretzky, man.

I put my other hand on his waist, pulling him closer to me. “Well, he’s kinda quiet. But once you get to know him, he’s really nice. He can be really serious at times, but it’s a cute serious, you know? Kinda like a cat or a bird.”

Will let go of my hand to wrap his arms around my shoulders. “He sounds nice. Do you think he likes you back?”

My stomach was exploding with butterflies.

“Hell yeah, I think he likes me back.”

We kissed. He bit at my lip ever so slightly, and I ran my hands along his back.

After about a minute, he pulled away, panting.

“Can we sit down?”

“Sure.”

I sat down on my couch, and he settled in next to me.

“Ray, I… I need to ask something.”

“Yeah?”

My stomach was in knots.

“Would you… be my boyfriend? It’s okay if not, we only have talked for short time, it’s just-” His English was faltering as he began to go into a slight panic before I cut him off.

“Yes, Will.”

“You… yes?”

I grinned. “Of course I’ll be your boyfriend, Will.”

Will smiled brighter than I’d ever seen. Knowing that I caused that gorgeous smile filled me with pure happiness.

He threw his arms around me, hugging me tight. I gladly hugged him in return.

Eventually, Will and I ended up lazily watching tv, cuddled up against each other. I was stroking his stunning blonde hair absently, happy that I was actually allowed to do so.

I don’t think you understand how it felt, having him ask me out. It was honestly kinda overwhelming, and it was a miracle that I didn’t freak out and say something weird.

That kinda happens when I’m stressed.

But hey, Will’s my boyfriend.

I’m Will’s boyfriend.

I, Raymond Novak, college student and junior goaltender, managed to win the boy of my dreams.

William Novak has a nice ring to it.

Or what about Raymond Vista?

Wait, what the hell. It’s a little too early to be thinking about that shit, Novak. Get your shit together.

Oh yeah, Will’s still here as I’m writing this. He’s right next to me actually, in my bed. But he’s asleep. No, we didn’t do anything sexual.

I may be bisexual, but sex is just gross. Make out with me as much as you want, but don’t even think about sex. Sorry.

Anyway, what the hell am I even doing? I can’t believe I still write in this fucking journal.

Whatever, it helps.

I’ll update this shitty thing tomorrow. As for now, I get to share a bed with the most gorgeous man I know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and constructive criticism are much appreciated! Come find me on my tumblr, gay-4-goalies, for more hockey stuff.


	9. October 12th, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say thanks to everyone who's been reading! I wouldn't have written this much if it weren't for all of you. Also, big thanks to my friend Sky who's been following along with this and giving me ideas! More thanks to the other goalies on my hockey team for helping inspire some scenes throughout the story. Bit of a shorter chapter, but full of fluff. Again, thanks for reading! All characters belong to me except for the NHL players mentioned!

October 12th, 2016

We woke up to my phone’s alarm blaring.

Nine in the fucking morning. I forgot that I had classes today. Ugh.

Will groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. His hair was completely messed up; it was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen. And he had this look on his face, as if he was going to punch anything that dared even speak to him.

“Hva er klokka?”

Um.

“English, Will.”

He glared at me. Fuck, he’s hot.

“Det er for tidlig for Engelsk…”

Shit.

“I have classes today, I gotta get up. You can stay here if you want. Unless you have work this morning. I can give you a ride if you need.”

Will furrowed his eyebrows and stretched. I watched as his shirt rode up a little, revealing his lower stomach. Holy fuck.

He stood up and rolled his muscular shoulders. I couldn’t help but stare.

Looking over his shoulder, he gave me this… look. I couldn’t fucking describe it. He caught me staring and flashed his beautiful smile. 

“Liker du det du ser?”

I just blinked at him, because what the fuck am I supposed to say.

Will laughed. Like, genuinely laughed. God, I’m in love with this boy.

He grabbed his pants off of the chair in the corner of my room. Yes, I leant him some of my pajamas. So what.  
“Ray.”

“Yeah?”

“I have classes today too. Around the same time as you.”

“Oh.”

Oh. Okay.

“Can we stop at my apartment? I need clean clothes and my saxophone.”

I got up out of bed and smiled at him. “Sure, yeah. Of course.”

He smiled back at me and went into the bathroom to get changed.

Honestly, I don’t see why it’s that big of a deal. We literally have to get naked in front of each other like… three to four times a week.

Oh well. Whatever makes Will comfortable.

I quickly got dressed and went into my kitchen to make us breakfast. Nothing fancy, just some bagels.

Will came out of the bathroom to where I was sitting in my kitchen sipping at my tea. I held out the cup that I’d poured for him.

“I made you some tea. I don’t know how you like it though, so…”

He smiled and took it from me.

“I like tea without sugar. Thank you.”

We sat in pleasant silence for a few minutes. It was honestly the most relaxed I’ve ever felt.

Until the toaster popped up and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Will burst into laughter, doubling over.

It may have been adorable, but still. I glared playfully at him.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up.”

He wiped at his eyes.

“You should have seen your face!”

I smiled and shook my head, turning around to finish making our bagels.

We ate in my living room while watching highlights from the previous night’s NHL games. Will was pretty much quiet, until they showed Auston Matthews and Mitch Marner together.

“Ray?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think any NHL players are like us?”

I looked over at him.

“Yeah, of course. There’s just about 700 of them- no way they’re all straight.”

As per usual, Will flashed his gorgeous smile.

 

After that, nothing too exciting happened until I got to my second class of the day. My professor announced that for our next project, we’d be studying emotion and creativity. She explained that we’d think of a person in our life who has effected us in some way, and we’d do watercolor paintings inspired by how that person makes us feel.

So, I bet you can’t guess who’s inspiring my painting.

Anyway, after that class, I took Will to lunch, and I dropped him off at his house. Not before having a brief makeout session in my car, of course.

I went to work that evening to find Brent and Andrew there. They were sitting at one of the tables we had set out in the middle of the store for people to read sewing books, or draw. Brent was sitting across from Andrew, who was scribbling away on a sketchpad with the markers he had purchased last week.

I took a few steps closer, and realized that he was drawing a picture of Brent.

I smiled subtly at the scene, thought of Will, and walked away to continue with my work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and constructive criticism are much appreciated. Come find me on my tumblr, gay-4-goalies, for more hockey stuff.


	10. October 13th, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late, I've been busy with hockey things of my own! I'm getting to be a pretty decent goalie myself. Another shorter chapter, but oh well. Hope you enjoy it!

It was six in the morning when Coach called. I honestly debated on hanging up and going back to sleep, but I knew that that would mean extra work at practice. So, no thanks.

I rolled over and picked up my phone.

“Hey coach.”

“Rise and shine, sweetheart. We’re having a surprise practice at seven thirty. Be there.”  
Then he hung up. Ugh.

I sat up in my bed and dialed up Eric, because Coach is notorious for this shit.

“Hello?” Eric sounded like he’d been awake for some time.

“Hey man, Coach called. Apparently we have practice this morning?”

He sighed. “Yup. Me and Johnny are here now, actually. Perks of being a captain…”

Yeah, forgot to mention. We actually have two captains. The one I’ve never brought up is John Finlay. Probably the only Welsh dude I’ll ever meet. Not a very nice guy, to be quite honest.

“What about the girls?”

“Yeah, well-” As if on cue, I heard one of them shout at Eric in the background.

“Oh man, Coach let you bring them with you? The team’s gonna go nuts when they see them.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me. They should be fine, I’ll probably just have them sit on the bench the whole time.”

“Don’t forget to make them wear helmets. Let’s not have any more close calls.”

Eric forget to put helmets on his girls one time when he brought them during practice. Steven decided not to pay attention and just about took their heads off with the puck. I’ve never been so terrified of Eric in my life.

So yeah, things were pretty interesting.

Half the team was there when I showed up. No one looked like they wanted to be there.

Steven was curled up and asleep against Brian, who was dozing off. Johnny and Eric were sipping at Starbucks coffees and making small-talk, while keeping an eye on the girls. Much to everyone’s protests, Casper showed up, but no one could argue with him because what the hell even is the Icelandic language. A bunch of other people that I’m sure I’ll mention at some point showed up, all half asleep and either chatting or dozing.

I sat in my place on the locker room bench and leaned back, stuffing my hands in my jacket pockets.

About ten minutes later, Will arrived, looking unnaturally awake. How he does it, I’ll never know. He smiled at me and was about to sit down, when he saw Casper. His eyebrows shot up, and he immediately started cursing at him in Norwegian.

From the look on Will’s face, he seemed pretty fucking concerned about Casper being here. They went back and forth for a few minutes. I honestly don’t know what the hell they were talking about, but eventually, a small smile broke out across Will’s face, and he gave Casper a gentle hug.

Casper left.

Apparently, everyone had watched the conversation. Our teammates swarmed Will, asking what Casper said.

According to Will, Casper is doing a lot better and thought he’d be okay to come visit during a practice. Will had talked him down and told him to go home, because we all cared for his safety and didn’t want him receiving any permanent damage from not being careful.

Eric smiled at Will. 

“That’s real good of you to look out for your teammate like that, Will.”

Will didn’t say anything, but he flashed a small smile.

Butterflies in my stomach.

 

Lucky for us, our practice consisted entirely of off-ice training. We changed into our team-regulated work out clothes and just. Exercised.

Eric’s daughters decided they’d do everything we did. It was the cutest thing on the face of the Earth, and no one really cared. If anything, the team enjoyed having them there.

Nothing too exciting happened.

Well. Except for the fact that I purposefully tripped Steven while we played soccer on our indoor field, and he landed flat on his ass. I thought Brian was gonna murder me.

Lemme just say, even though he’s a hockey player, that kid sure knows how to kick a soccer ball.

I now have a newfound respect for soccer goalies.

Also, I think Coach D may be onto me and Will. He kept making sure we were on the same teams or groups for every drill, and it was nice, but suspicious. Will must’ve noticed it too, because he kept giving me weird looks whenever we were placed together. 

But hey, it was nice. Me and Will work good with one another.

I haven’t been this happy in a long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the support, I've really been appreciating it! Find me on tumblr for more hockey stuff at gay-4-goalies.


	11. October 14th, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out! I've been busy with school and hockey stuff since the season is ending. But, I have to write a story for my creative writing class and I'm going to do a spinoff of this story featuring Andrew and Brent! Would anyone be interested in me posting it?

I began working on that painting of Will. 

The rough sketch is complete. I based it off of this picture of Will that one of our photographers took on the first day that he was ever the starter for our team. In the picture, Will is in the hallway leading to the rink, hunched over his leg pads, stick in hand, staring into the camera with determination in his cool blue eyes. It’s gorgeous.

Anyway. I promised one of our rookies that I’d show him around Ogden today. I’ll get back to this later.

~~~~~~~~

Okay, so first off, a little bit of background info.

The kid’s name is Ryker Marinelli, and he’s from Texas. But, he’s not anything like a stereotypical Texan. He kinda reminds me of Brian, but less harsh. He doesn’t say much, and he literally said ‘okay’ to anything. Like, I couldn’t even tell if he was having fun.

We went to a few of Ogden’s big art galleries, along with the big historic train station, and I showed him a few of the supposedly haunted hotels in the area. He didn’t care about anything. So, I said “fuck it”, took him to lunch at my favorite sushi place, and we left.

Eric SO owes me big time.

But, while I was showing Ryker the historical Ben Lomond Hotel, we ran into Will, who’s a bellhop.

I guess I never mentioned that… It’s always funny when visiting teams stay in that hotel and see Will working there. Let’s just say that the they’re always shocked when we start chirping them on the ice about what they’ve got in their suitcases.

So yeah, that was pretty uneventful. I don’t think I’ll be good friends with Ryker any time soon.

But later in the day…

Andrew and Brent were at my work again. 

This time, Brent was the one who was drawing. He had this look of determination on his face, and Andrew was right by his side, laughing. From what it seemed, Brent wasn’t the best artist.

I had walked to the shelf behind them to restock some sewing books when Brent noticed me.

“Excuse me… Raymond?”

I turned around and smiled at him and Andrew. Andrew’s eyes were wide and his face was red.  
“Call me Ray. What’s up?”

“I didn’t know you worked here! Me and Andrew are here so often, how didn’t we notice you?”

I shrugged. “I guess I tend to blend in.”

Just so that I could barely hear, Andrew said, “That’s not true.”

Brent looked at Andrew, mildly surprised. 

Andrew continued with a smile. “You’re a great goalie, Ray. You’re on of my biggest inspirations and you stand out. The entire Owls fanbase goes crazy for you, and it’s not often that goalies will go out to the faceoff circles to yell at the opposing team. You shouldn’t… You shouldn’t say that you blend in. I don’t personally know you but from what I can tell, you’re- you’re an awesome, unique person.”

Wow. Honestly? I never thought I had any big fans. Everyone always goes for Eric and Johnny, and we always see teenage girls fawning over Steven. But me? The average looking goalie from Utah? I’ve never gotten much recognition from anyone other than my teammates. To know that people really do cheer for me... To know that people like how I play... Do you know how that feels?

I couldn’t do anything but smile, because how the hell do you respond to your number one fan who basically just poured his heart out to you.

I managed to stutter out, “Thanks, kid. I really appreciate it.”

Andrew smiled bashfully at me. “Yeah… Thanks for signing my jersey, by the way. Tell William I said thanks too.”

“Sure thing.”

Brent held up his hand. “Hold up.” He looked at Andrew and pointed at me. “He did WHAT on the faceoff circles?”

Oh man, that isn’t exactly a moment I like to remember. It was during one of my first games as an Owl, when I was a third-line rookie goalie that was just trying to get my name out there. I was nineteen years old, the other team was from Quebec, I’d let in four goals, and they were shouting at me in French. Little did they know, my mother is from Montreal, so I knew my fair share of French. When a small fight broke out on the other end of the rink, the opposing team’s shouting only grew worse, so I skated to the faceoff circle, helmet off, glove, blocker, and stick set aside, and I cussed them out in French. I’d never seen the crowd go more wild in my life.

But yeah, coach scratched me for about half the season after that. What the hell, it was worth it.

I explained the story to Brent, who burst out laughing.

“Oh man, I totally need to try that sometime! I know a bit of Russian thanks to my uncle, and I hate it when the Russian high school teams chew us out!”

I am such a bad influence, it’s not even funny.

But hey, they’re good kids. Before I left, I took a picture with them, and Andrew seemed starstruck.

....do you know how good that feels?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thanks for reading! Comments and constructive criticism are much appreciated. Find me on tumblr at gay-4-goalies for more hockey stuff.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and constructive criticism are much appreciated!
> 
> Come visit me on my tumblr gay-4-goalies for more hockey stuff.


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